


For the Dark Lord's Favour

by DaronwyK



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Memory Charms, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:44:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14365266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaronwyK/pseuds/DaronwyK
Summary: Every time he comes to her, it feels like the first time.





	For the Dark Lord's Favour

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [TheSlytherinCabal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlytherinCabal/pseuds/TheSlytherinCabal) in the [DBQ2018Round1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2018Round1) collection. 



 

This was the last time. He said that every time, but it was always a lie. Teeth set against pale, milky flesh and hands tangled in glossy black curls. She struggled so beautifully under him, every time as fresh and exciting as that first night. Of course, for dear sweet Bellatrix, it was always the first time. Even as morally bankrupt as Tom was these days, he knew this was wrong. She was Cygnus’ daughter, and barely of age. He had tried for a time to ignore the girl’s beauty, though admittedly not that hard.

 

“You’re hurting me…” she whimpered, twisting a little under him. Her dress was torn open, and she was pinned to the floor of her father’s study.

 

“Yes, and you like it, don’t you sweet Bella?” he whispered into her ear, thrusting viciously into her tight body. Poor thing had no idea the depravities he had visited on her flesh in previous visits, the things she’d begged him to do to her. The subtle variations in each encounter fascinated him.

 

A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she shook her head in denial. “Please, my Lord…” she begged softly.

 

“You want to please me, don’t you?” The salt of her tears tasted divine on his tongue, her agony and confusion better than the finest wine. He stilled on top of her, looking down at the beautiful girl. Idly, he wondered how many times he’d be able to do this before it started to affect her mental stability. The mind was such a complex thing.

 

“Of course, I’ll do anything you, my Lord.” Her voice held such sincerity, utterly perfect devotion. Such a gem, a true black diamond amongst a world filled with chips of coloured glass.

 

“Beg me to fuck you, convince me that you are worthy to be my consort. An honour that no other could hope to claim. Tell me how much you desire me.” He stroked her face, his thumb pressing her bottom lip against her perfect, white teeth. He wanted to make her bleed, the need for violence riding him tonight as surely as he was riding her.

 

“Please, my Lord…I am yours, I need to be yours. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, nothing I wouldn’t give. You need only command me.” The slender witch beneath him swallowed nervously, clearly struggling with his demand. While her body had a wealth of sexual experience, her mind was so very innocent. “I…please fuck me.” Her cheeks darkened with shame at the word. “Take me, use me, but please just let me be at your side. It’s all I think about. I want nothing more than to serve you.”

 

“Beautiful, my pet.” He leaned down and rewarded her with a kiss, and a languid roll of his hips. Slowly this time, he built the intensity. The honeyed tone of her pleas had settled the violence, but stoked his need to possess every inch of her. No matter who her father married her to, her body would always be his. He reached down, slipping his hand behind her knee and roughly yanking her leg up, drawing a cry from her throat.

 

He wrapped his other hand around her throat, squeezing tightly as he chased his own pleasure. Hers was inconsequential, though her hips moved against his with clear need. The silence of the study was punctuated with the wet sounds of flesh striking flesh. Her hands tugged at his wrist, truly struggling now as he cut off her air. Grey eyes grew wide and panicked, and he finished inside her shouting out his release.

 

After an exquisite moment of savouring his release, Tom glanced down feeling her go limp. He released her throat and saw the steady rise and fall of her chest. Reassured that there was no permanent harm done to his favourite toy, he pulled free from her body and used a spell to clean himself up. He pulled his wand out and pointed it at her.

 

“Obliviate,” he drawled lazily, concentrating on removing everything that had occurred since he’d summoned her to the study. Casually, as if she were nothing more than a discarded doll, he stepped over her prone form and poured himself a drink at the sideboard. He savoured the smoky flavours of the fire whiskey. Physical pleasure was hardly a priority for him, though it was a useful way to relieve tension. There was something inherently satisfying in debasing the daughter of one of Britain’s purest families. Even the high and mighty Blacks bowed and scraped before Lord Voldemort these days.

 

The door to the study opened and he looked over his shoulder. Druella Black entered, her dark eyes darting to where her daughter lay on the floor.

 

“I trust you were pleased with her, my Lord?” she asked carefully, nothing betrayed in her neutral tone.

 

“I am always pleased with your daughter, Druella. As ever, your hospitality far exceeds my expectations.” He tossed back the glass of whiskey and grabbed his cloak. “I apologize for the bruises, I fear I got somewhat carried away tonight.” Tom affected the appearance of being contrite.

 

“Nothing that I can’t put right easily enough,” Druella dismissed it easily.

 

Tom paused and took her hand, placing a polite kiss there. “Your family will always be the highest in my regard, do not ever doubt that.”

 

“When will we have the pleasure of seeing you again?” She enquired.

 

“I have some business on the continent, I’ll return in a few weeks. Owl me when you know Cygnus is otherwise occupied, I would like a full night with my dearest girl.” His crimson eyes flicked over to where Bellatrix lay in front of the fire. Yes a full night to really play with her, he already had such delightful plans.

 

“It will all be arranged,” Druella said, a knowing smile on her lips.

 

“Beautiful, and accommodating. Until next time, Lady Black.” He took his leave and stole out into the night.

 

When Druella had first offered her eldest daughter to him, all those months ago, he’d nearly refused, somewhat uncertain of her motives. It had proven to simply be a desire to attach him to her family, and start shattering the ties between him and the Malfoys. The obliviates had been Druella’s idea, a way to give Bellatrix plausible deniability in case anyone should question her, it had the added bonus of making each time just as thrilling as the first. One day she would be allowed to know about his visits, and on that day she would take her rightful place at his side.

 

~Fin    


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